Life Will Go On
by thebestoftimes11
Summary: When Harry broke up with Ginny, she felt like her beating heart had been ripped right out of her chest. She promised herself she'd never love him again. But has Ginny made a promise she cannot keep? And, does Harry feel the same? Oneshot.


**A/N: Hello Harry Potter fans :) This is my first HP Fanfiction. This idea just came to me one day and I felt the need to form it into a short oneshot. I would like to give thanks to two of my good friends who read over this story and gave me lots of encouragement, I love you guys! Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Ginerva Weasley could smell something in the air. Death.

It wasn't a pleasant smell. In fact, it was terrifying. It meant that someone, somewhere was dead, or still dying. That someone could be Harry.

_**Quit thinking of him. He broke up with you.**_

'But it was for my own safety.' Ginny thought, staring up into the black sky. A purple crack appeared in the sky, an obvious fault in the otherwise clear sky. Like, a dark line in a broken dinner plate. Or a red scar on pale skin.

_**There we go, thinking of Harry, again.**_

That could apply to anyone with scars.

_**But really, it was about Harry. Wasn't it?**_

No. Of course not. He's the Boy Who Lived, he could have any girl with the simple click of his fingers.

_**Including you.**_

Ginny shook her head.

"No, not me. Not this time. He had me once, and he gave me up. He's not going to get me back." She murmured, a fresh crack of lightning forcing itself into the night sky, illuminating the whole field. Through the driving rain and low lying fog, Ginny swore she saw 3 dark figures, crossing the moor in the distance. Dismissing it as her imagination, she turned back to her thoughts.

_**About Harry.**_

No. Ginny struggled not to think of him. His green eyes, his messy hair, his beautiful features and kind personality. There she was, slipping into Harry dreams again. She mustn't let herself do that. Ginny tried to entertain her restless mind by thinking about Hogwarts.

_**Which leads you to think about Harry. Again.**_

Ginny battled with her conscience, fiercely trying to force Harry from her brain. More lightning lit up the sky, and this time Ginny was sure she'd seen three figures in the distance. Glad for something to keep her mind off _him_, Ginny pondered. Should she tell her father or wait and see what happened... Ginny chose the latter option. It seemed more mysterious, and left Ginny time to think about who the figures could be. Dismissing the evil options immediately, she began to explore any other possibilities. It was only when the fourth crack of lightning in five minutes came that she realised who it was.

It was him.

Harry.

He was alive.

* * *

Harry shivered, soaked right through to the bone, as another crack of lightning threw itself across the night sky. Harry glanced up at the Burrow, finding his eyes drawn to a certain window. Ginny's window. Harry dragged his eyes from the pane of glass and continued across the field, boots heavy from the mud, clothes heavy from the rain. He watched the droplets of rain descending in sheets around him, tipping his head back and allowing them to fall onto his pallid face.

"Harry? Are you coming?" Harry tipped his head forward to see Hermione watching him expectantly, hair plastered against the sides of her face. Harry nodded,

"Sorry." Hermione gave him a pitiful smile, before setting off again, behind Ron. Harry found his eyes drawn to Ginny's window again, his green irises searching for the redhead behind the raindrop-speckled pane. No luck. Another jagged line of purple lightning was drawn onto the huge black canvas above the heads of the 'Golden Trio' as they reached the gate surrounding the Burrow. Pushing it open, Ron slipped through the mud towards the steps, dragging Hermione up them as the clouds threw harsh droplets onto their heads. Harry closed the gate before beginning to follow the couple up the steps. He misjudged a step and his trainers lost their minimal grip on the slippery surface, bringing him crashing to the ground. Harry cursed under his breath before putting a hand to his head. Hot, sticky blood dripped down his face as he scrambled up the last few steps towards the warmth of the Weasley household.

The door slammed behind him, shutting out the bitter wind threatening to overtake the warm aura inside the house. Besides himself, Ron and Hermione, Harry noticed that the only other figures in the room were Ginny and Molly. Ron and Hermione were seated on the couch in front of the fire, swathed in fluffy towels. Molly bustled over to Harry, handing him a creamy towel. Harry took it gratefully, before pulling his soaking shirt over his head and wrapping the towel around his upper body. He took a seat on the couch beside Hermione, who was leaning against Ron, eyes closed, long lashes resting against her skin, lips slightly parted. Harry turned to stare into the fire, to watch the orange flames dancing over the burning logs. He pulled the towel further around himself, the gentle fluffiness caressing his aching limbs.

Suddenly, he noticed a startling red drop standing out firmly against the paleness of the towel. This one red spot was soon joined by another, falling not that far from the first one. It was then Harry remembered the gash on his head. He went to get up, to investigate the wound and to clean it, but a gentle hand pushed him back down. Ginny was standing over him, a damp cloth in her hand. She tenderly pressed it to Harry's head, watching it soak up the blood. Harry gave Ginny a small smile,

"Thanks." He said, reaching up to take the cloth. Their hands brushed, ever so slightly, ever so softly. Ginny stared down at him, chocolate brown eyes boring into Harry's jade green ones. She nodded slightly, before reluctantly ripping her gaze from his, and walking away. Harry stared after her, fiery locks a vivid and startling red in the light from the fire. Red like the blood from his head. Red like the pain in his throbbing heart.

* * *

Ginny sat out on the front porch, staring at the dying sunset. It was a week since the Final Battle, but Ginny felt in no mood to celebrate the death of the world's darkest wizard. Because with Voldemort had gone a piece of Harry.

_**The piece that you'd loved?**_

No, she'd loved all of him. Every imperfection.

Ginny turned to Hermione,

"He's just been so, different." She whispered, thinking about the boy she had loved.

_**And still loved.**_

Hermione nodded, "I know what you mean, Ginny. But you have to understand how Harry feels about what he's done. His mind is tainted with the hurt he feels he has caused people."

"But he **hasn't**! It's not his fault that Voldemort was a blood-thirsty maniac, intent on killing every non-evil wizard, or muggle, for that matter!"

"Ginny, I _know_, but he feels like it was, and there's no messing with Harry's feelings."

"He doesn't let people in." Ginny retorted.

_**He let you in.**_

'That's different!' Ginny thought, furious with her conscience. Hermione turned to her best friend, eyes full of sorrow,

"That's just Harry, I suppose."

"I still love him," Ginny blurted, tears pricking the back of her eyes. "I never stopped loving him. He just... He tore my heart in two when he broke up with me, and I convinced myself I'd never feel anything again. But there's just something about him that makes me unable to stop loving him." Ginny said, a single crystal droplet falling from her eye. Hermione wrapped her arms around the younger girl, for once unsure of what to say.

A feather floated past in the gentle breeze.

The sky grew darker.

And life went on.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it :)**

**thebestoftimes11 3 x**


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